Black Clouds
by Pirate-x-Girls
Summary: Voldermort needs to hide his Horcruxes, what better place than Middle Earth, Harry, Ron and Hermione must follow, but get caught up in something much bigger than they expected. HP, LOTR crossover, rated M for later content. Please read and review!
1. Prolouge

Right oh, new fic. Just so you know the name will more than likely change, if it does I shall inform you immediately. It's a LOTR, Harry Potter crossover. Little bit different but I hope you enjoy it! As always read and review!

**Disclaimer: Any characters you know from the LOTR and HP franchises belong to New Line Cinema and Warner Bros. I only leech off them for fanfiction purposes!**

**Summary: Voldermort needs to hide his Horcruxes, what better place than Middle Earth, Harry, Ron and Hermione must follow, but get caught up in something much bigger than they expected.**

**Black Clouds**

**Prologue **

The black clouds that were a permanent feature above Mordor seemed even more ominous that morning then they usually did. They swirled and rippled and the thunder that ripped through the air sounded like a growl from the belly of a veracious monster. The men of Minas Tirith were even more on edge then usual. They clutched their weapons tightly and cast nervous glances to the dark mountains. The air seemed to carry the pungent smell of death that wafted in great waves over the battlements.

One of the soldiers yawned and adjusted his spear. His companion was holding onto his own weapon so tightly that his knuckles were white.

"I don't like it!" he whispered. His companion nodded and looked over to Mordor once more.

"You don't think they're planning to attack do you?" he asked fearfully. The other guard shook his head fiercely so that his helmet clanked. They lapsed back into silence. A bird called overhead, a crow, cawing. The two men looked up. Said bird was circling high above the city, a black dot against the grey sky.

"It looks like Crebain." One of the soldiers said. The other shaded his eyes and squinted.

"Don't think so. They usually travel in a formation." He replied.

"I wish Mithrandir was here. He'd know what to do." The soldier nodded in agreement.

Just then a shriek pierced the air. Both soldiers jumped and their grips on their weapons tightened instinctively. They both spun wildly, looking for the source of that dreadful noise. It had been too high to be a Nazgul that sometimes patrolled the skies.

"Look!" one of the soldiers cried. His friend followed his gaze and shaking hand.

It swooped through the clouds like a shadow. And to the two guards it looked like a shadow. An apparition of mist and evil. It's body seemed to be made of scraps of wind and cloud that only seemed to be held together by some rotting bones. Even from their position they could see scraps of flesh hanging off the bones and smell the overpowering scent of rotting flesh. The thing screeched again and both soldiers had to cover their ears. It executed a steep dive, heading straight for the black mountains. Raising shakily to their feet the two soldiers squinted.

"There's someone riding it!" one of the soldiers spluttered. The other began to shake his head but his eyes widened when he saw that there was indeed a figure standing atop the creature of shadow. It looked human from what they could see. Arms were spread wide as it ducked and dived through the clouds, but before they could get a better look the thing had vanished deep into Mordor and they lost sight of it. Looking up they could see that the crow had vanished and once again the skies were empty.

"Lord Denathor! Lord Denathor!" they clamoured together, tones frightened and eyes wide. The old man looked up, the permanent frown on his face deepening slightly, causing the wrinkles that lined his forehead to crease.

"What is it?" his deep voice, resounded powerfully around the room. The soldiers came to a halt and even in their frightened states managed a bow to the steward of Gondor.

"Something's gone into Mordor!" one of the soldiers cried.

"Something evil, it was made of shadow and bones my lord and flew like the Nazgul!" the other one chimed in.

"There was someone riding it!" they finished together. Denathor held up and hand and they fell silent.

"This is grave news." He said. Turning his head he addressed the man by his side. "What do you make of it?" the man bowed slightly and stepped forward. His mousy brown hair fell elegantly down to his shoulders and his eyes were wise beyond his years. He wore the uniform of a scout but the clasps on his cloak and the sword that hung on his hip gave him away as much more than a peasant soldier.

"I think that this could be a dangerous development." His voice, so unlike the soldiers was confident and assured. "It would be unwise to disregard it, but seeing that with the creature being in Mordor we have no chance of getting at it. And even if it did reappear we may not be able to shoot it down, if it is indeed made of the shadow that you proclaim." Faramir, son of Denathor bowed his head and retreated a few steps. Denathor nodded at his son's words.

"You speak the truth, and I only wish that your brother was here. Instead he is in Rivendell, a lot of good this will do us!" the old man's tone was bitter and cut through the silence in the room like a knife. Only someone who knew Denathor's youngest son well would have seen the flash of pain that darkened his eyes. But within a second it was gone and the soldier's face had returned.

"My Lord, what do you propose we do?" he asked. Denathor sighed.

"We wait." He said finally. "Double the guard, if that thing leaves I want to know." He sighed heavily. "There is a darkness descending on the world and I fear that men will not be able to survive the blow that will surely come soon."

XXXXXX

High above Gondor, in the tallest tower of Mordor, Barad-Dur, the great eye writhed and flamed. The shadow creature hovered in front of him. Its rider eye to eye as it were with Sauron.

"My Lord Sauron!" hissed the newcomer. "Your reputation precedes you, you truly are a force of might and power!" the eye blazed brighter in agreement. The newcomer was terrifying. Tall and imposing, his skin was as white as virgin snow. In respect the red eyes, eyes that looked like two beads of blood stood out. Just beneath these monstrous eyes were two snake like slits. Pale hands clasp a white wand firmly. But the hands shake ever so slightly. Almost as if their owner is afraid. And this in itself was strange. Because Lord Voldermort was never afraid. The eye seemed to roar, a deafening sound that shook the air. Voldermort shied away and somehow seemed make sense of the roars.

"My lord, once again I thank you for agreeing to this meeting." He lowered his head in what was supposed to be a bow. "It seems that you and I are allied in our objectives." He motioned around him to the barren wasteland that marked the Pelennor. "You seek to control this land, and I have my own objectives in my own land." With a flourish he produced a ball from the inside of his robes. The ball was slightly larger than a tennis ball and was the colour of a stormy ocean. The long white fingers curled around it and Voldermort hissed a spell.

"This ball is infused with many spells for revealing and transporting. Getting through that portal to get here could have wiped the stone." He held it up high above his head. A white light crackled from within the stone. A blurry image hazed into view. Second by second it grew clearer, until it revealed a large castle. Behind it a hazy sky.

"This is Hogwarts." Voldermort said, "Here live some of the most powerful wizards that inhabit my world. And it is here that I want to start my plans. Total control!" The eye was silent. The picture changed to reveal a boy, a boy with dark messy hair. Faded jeans and a scar that stretched across his forehead.

"This boy is the one thing in my way. He must be destroyed but we will discuss him later. Right now, I have a proposition to make of you." Voldermort paused. Choosing his words carefully. "I have things that I need to…hide. And I know that you would keep them safe here in your Middle Earth." He stopped and held his breath. He was counting on this…thing to be able to help and make sure that his precious things could not be found.

After a few moments of waiting with bated breath Voldermort got his answer, the eye roared. Just once, and it would seem to anyone that was listening closely that there was a word in amongst the noise.

'Yes.'

Voldermort heaved a sigh of relief.

"My Lord, you are too kin." He gushed. "And now, I shall go with all haste and fetch these items so that they may be hidden as quickly as possible." With one last sweeping bow he turned on his creature and swooped away. As he swept t over the battlements the orcs all looked up. Amazement etched on their foul features, Voldermort's steed gave one last screech before it disappeared back into the clouds.

Denathor watched the creature disappear gravely from his window. Turning to Faramir he shook his head.

"Take a band of men to the river. Osgiliath, hold it and watch for that thing again. If it comes back inform me at once." He ordered. Faramir bowed low and backed out of the room. Denathor turned from his son without even a goodbye. As the door to the great hall shut he sighed and ran a hand over his face. Things did not look good.

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Well, I hope you enjoyed that and let me know what you think! Love to all!

Pirate-x-Girls


	2. Chapter 1

**Sorry there has been no update for a long while. Things have been rushed and other commitments have been taking up my time, but don't think in anyway that I have forgotten about this story. I have big plans for it. So enjoy this chapter!**

**A/N: the events in this story will differ from '_The Deathly Hallows_' like Ron will not leave them and they will get to Middle Earth soon! Promise!**

**Black Clouds**

**Chapter 1**

Harry opened his eyes and stared at the white blur that was the top of the tent that he slept in. He shifted onto his side and winced as the hard frame of the wooden bunk dug into his back. He stretched and yawned quietly. Fumbling around under his pillow he retrieved his glasses and slipped them on. At once everything became much clearer. He levered himself up into a sitting position and glanced round the tent. Ron and Hermione were still asleep, Ron splayed across his small bed, his long arms and legs at strange angles. Hermione slept curled up in a ball, knees hugged to her chest. Harry smiled at the sight of his two best friends. Flopping back down onto his back he looked up at the ceiling.

They had been on the hunt for the Horcruxes so far now for a few weeks. And so far nothing had turned up. Harry was frustrated, frustrated because he had no idea what it was he should be doing. Frustrated because Ron and Hermione were looking to him for answers that he did not have. Just thinking about it made Harry scowl. He looked at his watch and groaned softly when he saw that it was still only seven am. He picked up his pillow and punched it once, trying to mould it into a more comfortable shape. Once he had got it to his liking he settled back down. He kept his glasses on and stared at the ceiling. As the low snores filled his ears he once again reached under his pillow and pulled out the bag that Hagrid had given him for his birthday. He pulled it open and retrieved the locket that was the fake horcrux. He turned the battered locket in his hands and frowned. He had been so sure that they had one of them when he had gone to the lake with Dumbledore in the summer.

Hermione shifted in her sleep, turning onto her back she stretched her legs out and blinked. She sat up slowly and yawned. Looking round her eyes settled on Harry.

"Morning." She yawned again. Harry smiled and levered himself up onto his elbows.

"Sleep well?" he asked. He knew that Hermione had been having problems sleeping. He had often woken up in the middle of the night to find her lying awake, staring at the ceiling of the tent. A far away look in her eyes. Hermione ran a hand through her unruly bushy hair and shrugged.

"Much better than usual." She admitted. Harry nodded.

"Good." He glanced at Ron and smiled. "Bet you wish you could sleep like him." Hermione looked at Ron and raised an eyebrow as he let out a particularly loud snore.

"No not really." She said in slight disgust. Harry chuckled and swung his legs over the edge of his bunk so that he was sitting upright. He bent his head slightly to avoid it hitting the beam that spanned the top of the tent.

"So, what's on the agenda for today?" Hermione asked after a moment. Harry's eyebrows knitted together.

"I think we should move today. We've been here for three days now and I think it's time to move." Hermione nodded.

"Good idea." She looked at Ron. "Do you want to wake him or shall I?" Harry jumped down from the bed.

"I'll do it." he told her. Hermione smiled and went over to where they had been storing the pots and pans. Harry meanwhile bent down next to Ron and leaning forward placed a hand on his best friends shoulder. He shook gently.

"Ron, wake up." he said. Ron grunted and turned over. Harry sighed and shook him more roughly. Ron snorted and sat bolt upright sending Harry pitching back onto the floor. Ron looked around, his eyes foggy from sleep.

"Wha?" he muttered. Harry picked himself up.

"Come on, get up, we're leaving soon." He said. Ron frowned and nodded. He threw back his covers and got out of bed.

Harry went to the tent flap and peered out. It was a murky morning with grey clouds and wet grass. They were in a small clearing in a wood somewhere in the south of England. The sea was a few miles off and even here Harry could smell the sea and taste the salt. He winced at the bitter taste it left. A small stream ran though the clearing; luckily the protective spells they had cast round their camp had included the stream. But Harry looked around all the same before he pulled the shirt he slept in over his head. He tossed it into the glass by the banks and peeled his trousers off. Leaving his boxers on he stepped up and waded into the stream. The water wasn't very deep, coming up to his waist. But it was cold; Harry shivered and rubbed his arms and chest in an attempt to ward off the cold that attacked him like knife pricks. It was soon going to be too cold to do this and Harry wondered what they would do then.

He washed quickly, scrubbing himself and splashing water on him. When he deemed himself clean enough he climbed out of the water, he picked up his clothes and practically sprinted back to the tent. Hermione and Ron looked up from the pan they were examining. Ron hid a smile as Harry shivered and rifled through a bag for his clothes. He pulled a t-shirt over his head and then proceeded to his trousers.

"Are those boxers wet?" Hermione asked suddenly. Harry looked over his shoulder and nodded once. "That's weird." Hermione wrinkled her nose. Harry shrugged and came over to where they both sitting. Hermione handed him a plate with some roots on it. She did not miss the sceptical look on both his and Ron's faces as they took their meal, she frowned.

"It's edible." She assured them. Harry looked at Ron who shrugged. Turning back to his food he spooned the green vegetation into his mouth. It was crunchy but not vile. He chewed for a moment and nodded.

"Not bad." He commented. This made Hermione smile as she attended her own food.

Soon they were packed up and ready to leave. They had become very efficient and all knew what to do. Hermione finished lifting the last of the spells and turned to the two boys.

"Right, I think we're ready." She said. Looking round she ran a careful eye over where they had been making sure that they had left nothing that would give away that they had been there. Seemingly satisfied she nodded. "Ok, let's go." Harry made one last check of all his things before he reached out and grasped both of his friend's hands. Together they all closed their eyes, thought hard and stepped in darkness.

XXXXXX

The sun rose on a pale rosy sky. On a rocky outcrop in a sheltered overhanging several figures were sleeping. There were eight of them stretched out on the floor. Varying shapes and sizes, three were large, most definitely men. Four looked no more than children. And the last was too big to be a child and too small to be an adult. The sound of deep snores filled the space and resounded off the rocks in an almost deafening boom. There was one awake however, he had taken a position by the opening, looking out on the sunrise. His stature was tall and slim, his long blonde hair fell down past his shoulders and to one looking from afar he would seem almost feminine, but there was nothing feminine about him. His eyes, blue as sapphires scanned the horizon with a practiced intensity. His face was beautiful with high cheekbones and a perfectly straight nose. His ears, poking out from under his hair came into a sharp point at the top. He turned his head a fraction and stiffened, after a moment of not moving he relaxed and turned his gaze back to a broad sweep. In the crook of his arm he cradled a bow, a quiver of arrows rested on his back, alongside the hilts of two white handled knives. He had no arrow in his hand but this was of no consequence. Should anything appear he would be able to draw, nock and fire an arrow faster than any eyes could follow.

The groan of one of his companions made him glance behind him. It was one of the small folk. Then one who sat up blinked groggily and stretched. His head was a mass of curly dark hair that surrounded and seemingly boyish face. In reality, this person was fifty years old. A hobbit. He yawned and looked around. Upon seeing the figure by the door he stood up fully. Glancing down at his still sleeping companions he walked over to join the other figure.

"Did you sleep at all Legolas?" he asked curiously. The elf, Legolas, turned his piercing gaze on the hobbit.

"I do not need sleep." He replied. "At least not every night. But you should rest Frodo." His voice was almost like a song, light but yet at the same time it carried the air of power. Frodo shrugged.

"I wouldn't get much sleep with the combined efforts of Pippin and Gimli snoring." He joked. A smile tugged at the elf's lips. They stood in silence for a moment more. Frodo occasionally fidgeting, but Legolas stood stock-still. He could have been a statue, but for the glint in his eyes. Finally Frodo spoke.

"Is something the matter?" he inquired. Legolas didn't look at him.

"Something is not right." He said finally. "There is a smell in the air that I do not recognise. It carries the stench of evil and death. But they are all linked." He seemed to be talking almost as much to himself as to Frodo.

They were pulled from their musings by a hand on Legolas' shoulder.

"Morning." Said a deep voice.

"Aragon." Legolas greeted him. Frodo smiled at the ranger. Aragon peered out into the valley.

"Anything?" he asked Legolas. The elf shook his head.

"Quiet." He muttered. "Too quiet." Aragon clapped him on the shoulder once more.

"Well, we had better wake everyone else up hadn't we?!" he said cheerfully.

The others did not take to be awoken, especially the hobbits. They complained about needing eight hours sleep. Legolas rolled his eyes. Something he had picked up from the humans. Gandalf had grumbled for a moment. Borimer said nothing, as usual. Since waking up he had been sullen. They all insisted on eating before they set off. The hobbits were not used long marches and so had to keep their strength up. Legolas did not see why they could not just eat on the way. He paced the front of the opening impatiently, his feet making no noise on the rock floor. Aragon followed him with his eyes and at several points even told him to sit down. Legolas just shook his head and continued his pacing.

Finally they were off, and the sun had truly risen. Her bright rays stretched across the land like fingers. The fellowship made navigated their way slowly through the rock outcrop and beyond that was a large expanse of dry land. Gandalf, heading the party stopped and shaded his eyes. Looking round he pursed his lips and turned to Aragon who was standing next to him.

"It's too quiet." He said softly. "There's something afoot." Aragon looked at the old wizard in concern before shooting a glance over his shoulder.

"Like what?" he whispered. Gandalf shrugged.

"That's the thing, I have no idea."

XXXXXX

Not many things scared orcs. But their master Sauron was one them. The worst job that could be assigned was to deliver news to the great eye. This was no easy feat. They would have to climb to the top of the tower, from there a small staircase would lead them out onto a small balcony, and then there was the perilous ladder hacked into the stone work that led up to a platform and finally the eye. The staircase was perilous, as the heat generated by Sauron at points was hot enough to melt the rock into uneven surfaces that could easily send a careless orc plummeting to their death.

One particular orc growled all the way up the steps. Only stopping when he reached the platform for fear of being heard. The great eye blazed up above him. The heat that radiated off him was intense; luckily the orcs thick skin protected him from the worst of it.

"My lord." He growled. "There is a message for you. Lord Voldemort sends his regards and the things that he wishes to keep safe. He is at the gate." The eye burned brighter.

'_Good!' _a voice hissed in the inside of the orcs head. '_Escort him to the river. Find somewhere to hide them._' The orc bowed low.

"As you wish my lord." He backed away. Almost dashing down the steps. Once at the bottom he marched back to the gate. The experience already fading from his pea sized brain.

XXXXXX

Faramir ran a hand up his bow, taking comfort in the feel of the smooth wood beneath his hand. He had been uneasy since he had brought his men here three weeks ago. There was a niggling in the back of his mind that something was going to happen. He had not voiced his concerns to his men. They had enough to worry about and they were already on edge. Faramir looked back to the river and peered into the approaching gloom. He had offered to take the first night shift because it was the hardest and the least desired watch. The gloom coupled with the mist made it near on impossible to see anything further than a few metres. Faramir blinked once to try and ward of the sleepiness that was clouding his brain. He shook his head and refocused his eyes. There was a mist curling on the surface of the lake, giving a more eerie feeling than usual to the city.

It was the call from the other sentry that alerted Faramir that something was wrong. He looked round. On one of the south towers that overlooked the river a sentry was waving furiously.

"There's something there!" he shouted fearfully. Faramir spun and ran. Gabbling at one of the other soldiers to take his watch he sprinted up the stairs to where the man was standing.

"Where is it?" he asked. The man pointed with a shaking finger down the river. Faramir followed his gaze. There was a higher level of visibility here and he was able to see further down the river. He squinted for a moment, but then he saw it.

A boat. And in it was something that Faramir had never seen before. It looked like a man. But this thing was so obviously not human. Even in the gloom Faramir could see that it had skin as white as snow and two red eyes that pierced the light like two flaming torches. Faramir felt a wave of fear wash over him, whatever this was; it was certainly nothing that had ever been in Middle Earth before. Slowly he brought his bow up, never taking his eyes off of the boat that was making its way towards them. Reaching behind him he pulled an arrow from his quiver. Setting it in his bow he kept it ready. Looking at the fearful man behind him he nodded.

"Signal the archers, quietly." He instructed. The man nodded and turned away. Faramir turned his attention back to the boat. It seemed that whoever was in the boat did not yet know that there were people in the ruins. Osgiliath had been abandoned for many years and Sauron did not see it as a major threat so he left it alone. But now it seemed that Osgiliath had drawn someone's attention.

As the boat got closer and closer Faramir could see that there were orcs there, they rowed and grunted. By now the archers had assembled. Faramir did a quick head count, there were fourteen orcs and the figure. Raising his bow he gave a small nod. The signal to the men to draw an arrow. Apart from a slight rustle this was done in silence. Faramir pulled back the string and took his aim. Then he nodded again, the archers followed suit. On the final nod they all loosed their arrows in the direction of the boat. The whistled almost without sound through the air. With deadly accuracy they struck the orcs that were rowing the boats. They slumped forwards, some even falling in the water; the splashes echoing round the silent stone works of the crumbling city. Only a couple of arrows had been aimed at the pale figure and Faramir watched eagerly as they sailed towards it. But then at the last minute it raised a hand and the arrows stopped dead. They fell harmlessly into the river. Faramir's mouth dropped and he was speechless for a moment. Then he shouted a command and another wave of arrows were loosed. A couple more of the orcs fell, but again the pale figure deflected their arrows. Faramir was at a loss of what to do. Finally he had no choice.

"Retreat further into the city!" he shouted. Heeding his order the men around him scrambled to hurry away.

Across the river in the boat the figure raised an arm. Clutched in a large spider like hand was a thin white wand of some kind. He raised it high above his head and pointed it at one of them who was hurrying away. He muttered something that Faramir couldn't hear and there was a flash of green. The man stumbled and fell to the floor. Dead. Faramir watched in horror. This was a kind of magic that he had never seen before. Before he too became a victim of that terrible curse he leapt off the parapet and sprinted with his men further into the city. Leaving the dead man where he lay.

XXXXXX

Lord Voldemort smiled as he watched the men scurry from their positions. He had only killed one of them to frighten them. And frighten them he had. He turned to the orcs who had not been slain by the archers arrows.

"Draw the boat in here." He commanded. The orcs grunted and pulled on the oars to bring the boat into one of the stone archways. Voldemort leapt off the boat with a strange cat like Grace. Landing between the bots of rubble her turned his head slowly to take in his surroundings. A smile stretched his mouth as he looked around. This place was perfect.

He spun back round and in one stride was back by boat. Reaching down he plucked a bag from the bottom of the boat. He saw the orcs looking at it curiously. He knew that they had no knowledge of what was in the bag. Sauron saw them as nothing more than grunts and Voldemort knew exactly what he meant. He too had his own minions that meant nothing to him and he certainly would never have confided in them any plans. Shielding the bag with his body he turned and marched away without even saying a word.

His feet made no noise on the stones as he crept through the silent city streets. Looking for somewhere to hide his things. In essence the idea was perfect. By placing his objects right under the noses of the men of Gondor he would ensure that they wouldn't hide it, but it all depended on whether or not he could find a place to hide them. Turning he found the orcs he had come with crowding round in a tight circle, weapons clutched to their chests and their small pig like eyes skirting around nervously. With a contemptuous wave he sent them on their way.

"Find somewhere good to hide these things. Somewhere no one will look." The orcs looked slightly confused for a moment but shuffled off, grunting to one another. Voldemort rolled his eyes. a human gesture that was most unlike him. Turning his back on the filthy creatures he got back to looking.

XXXXXX

Harry landed on the ground, and despite the many times that they had travelled this way stumbled slightly. Righting himself he reached up and straightened his glasses, which were practically falling, off his face. a quick look to his left and right saw that both Ron and Hermione had landed safely and without injury. Next thing on the agenda was to see where they were.

Once again they were in a wood. The trees around them were turning orange and gold with the coming winter and the ground was already becoming carpeted by a thick blanket of leaves. Bending down Harry scooped a few into his hand to see if they were wet, much to his disappointment they were. With a huff of disgust he threw them back on the floor and wiped his hand on his trouser leg. Looking up he saw the other two watching him.

"Right, we should set up and get the spells cast before anything happens." He said. Both Ron and Hermione nodded and without a word they went off to do their job. Harry ran a hand through his hair and looked around once more. It would have to do for now, but what he really wanted was a nice warm bed and a hot meal. And the likelihood of these anytime soon was very slim.

That night Harry allowed Ron to get a fire going and they roasted some nuts that Hermione had found earlier in the day when she had gone out searching for food. Ron had been sceptical, as always about the food, until Hermione had tried one to show him that they weren't poisonous and going to kill him. since then he had been tucking into them like there was no tomorrow. Harry and Hermione watched him with looks of mild amusement.

It was only after Ron had finished the last of the nuts that anybody spoke.

"So…what do we plan to do?" Hermione asked, and Harry could hear the nervous tone to her voice. Ron sat up and finished licking his fingers.

"Yeah, what's your course of action, how do you plan to find the Horcruxes?" he pressed. Harry sighed and stared deep into the small flickering flames of the fire they had built as if they would yield the answers they seeked.

"I don't know." He admitted heavily. "I don't know."

* * *

**I hope that you enjoyed that and please do let me know what you think! I'm going to try and write more quickly, so hopefully there will be no more long waits like this one!**

**Pirate-x-Girls**


	3. Chapter 2

**Hey bet you all thought I'd forgotten about this, but let me assure you that I haven't! I dug it out my hard drive today and realised I practically had a finished chapter so after some tweaking it's ready for you! I realise that it's been like a year a half since i posted so I would advise you refresh your memory by reading the other two chapters before this one. I also noticed that there are 29 alerts for this story which is well a lot! So I'm sorry for such a long wait and enjoy this :)**

**N.B: any spelling mistakes are my own, i can't always get them. **

* * *

**Black Clouds**

**Chapter 2**

"So..." Harry turned to Ron and shrugged.

"So what?" he asked wearily. Ron shuffled on his feet nervously and looked back at Hermione who was sat by their fire watching them both.

"Well…Hermione and I…" Hermione cleared her throat loudly, Ron scowled. "…fine, I was wondering if you knew if you were…you know…any closer to finding anything?" he muttered. Despite himself Harry felt the anger rising.

"No I don't!" he snapped, "I have no idea where we're going, what we're looking for or if we're ANY closer than we were three weeks ago!" Ron looked slightly taken aback by his outburst but nodded and quickly retreated back to the fire where he sat down next to Hermione.

Harry knew he should apologise, but his head was pounding and he could still feel the anger that had risen at Ron's question. Instead he took himself off into a corner of the field where they were camped and sat down on the hard ground, his back to the others. Taking a deep breath he let it out slowly watching the steam his breathing produced fly away. Rubbing his temples Harry forced his brain to try and work out some coherent way that he could tackle their ever growing problem. Their current strategy, stumbling around blindly in the hope that the next place they landed would magically yield all the things they sought just wasn't working. It was like trying to find needles in a very large haystack, and even magic wasn't helping.

Harry had never been one to admit defeat, his very existence was a proof of that but with each passing day he grew ever wearier and was starting to lose faith in his own abilities. The weight of the task upon him was wearing him down and he could no longer pretend that he knew what he was doing. Taking another deep breath he pushed himself to his feet and walked slowly back to where the other two were seated. They'd been talking in hushed voices, but as he approached they both stopped talking and looked to him, he tried to read their expressions but they both kept them guarded. Sitting down opposite them he stared into the fire for a moment.

"I'm sorry." He muttered, as much to them as to himself. Raising his gaze he locked eyes with each of them in turn. "I'm sorry I don't know what I'm doing, and I'm sorry that both of you have been caught up in all of this." his voice was weary and carried the air of one who has forsaken all the hope they held onto.

Hermione watched him, a sadness descended that she couldn't describe and she felt a lump form in her throat. The flames from the fire cast Harry's face into a shadow that made him look tired and it was only now that she could see what this quest of his was really doing to him. Scooting round the fire she took hold of his hand.

"You have nothing to be sorry for." She assured him quietly, "Ron and I are here because we want to be." Ron vigorously nodded his agreement at this and patted Harry on the back.

"We trust you mate, and know that eventually you'll figure something out. Even if it takes a bit of time." He smiled; Harry looked at his two friends and sighed.

"But time is something we may not have."

XXXXXX

The morning was crisp and clear; the sun had risen in a watery sky and now bathed the forest in a blanket of soft light. Birds and animals alike were pottering around in their daily lives, completely oblivious to the troubles that plagued the human world around them. In its den high up in a tree trunk a squirrel studies the pile of seeds and nuts that it has managed to harbour for the coming winter months, with only one thought on its mind, more. A fox pads through the grass on the edge of a meadow, its beady eyes fixed on the field mouse that sits a few metres away from him, completely oblivious to his presence. Shifting his weight to his back legs and lowering his head the fox creeps forward, inch by inch, as quietly as he can, until he is no more than two feet away from his prey. His ears flick forward and his nose twitches as the smell of the small creature floods his nasal cavities.

Tensing his back legs the fox prepares to leap in for the kill; silently he springs from the floor and soars towards his prey. But before he can cover the couple of feet and snatch his meal into his jaws the ground and air shake with an almighty crashing. Terrified the field mouse turns tail and flees leaving the fox still flying through the air, the air seems to ripple around him and a second boom resounds round the meadow. The fox is caught in a blast of magic that sends his spinning backwards, head over heels. The force of the blast strips the fur and flesh from his bones leaving a pile of bloody goo congealing on the floor. The blast of magic continues, rising upwards as well as outwards. Birds flee from their nests shrieking in fear, but are unable to outrun the magic and like the fox end up nothing more than a pile of flesh and bones.

In the middle of the field, at the centre of the magic a small hole, black as the darkest night, has formed. It swells and expands until it covers over half of the meadow; here it stays billowing and shimmering. At the very centre of the inky blackness a shape begins to form, blurry at first like an out of focus photograph. But with each passing second details become clearer, the first thing; blood red eyes, followed by skin, blindingly white. Robes almost as black as the hole around them swirled around a thin frame as if buffeted by wind.

Voldermort stepped from the black abyss and set his foot on soft grass. Glancing around him he took in the site around him with a bored indifference. Birds and animals lay decaying where they had fallen after the blast of magic. His nostrils flared slightly as the pungent smell of rotting flesh reached him. His head twitched in an almost bird like fashion before he started across the field, without looking back or removing the black hole from the meadow. Within seconds he had disappeared into the darkness of the trees.

XXXXXX

Dusk was creeping in, and brought with it a cold night. Minas Tirith towered above the grassy plain, a bright beacon of white in an otherwise dark landscape. To the East Mordor burned and the never resting eye roved hungrily over the landscape.

In his throne room Denethor sat and stared stonily out of the window, it had been three weeks since he had sent his youngest son Faramir to Osgiliath to keep watch for the beast that had been seen roaming the Gondorian skies. Word had quickly spread throughout the land of the beast and every day people would crowd around the battlements, wondering if it would return. It had only been seen once, very briefly and a very long way away, a small speck in an otherwise clear sky.

Denethor had done his best to calm the people, to alleviate their fears that Mordor was soon to attack them, but he himself was not so sure. Sauron had been more active in the last year than he had ever been since he had been driven from Mirkwood by the wizards order sixty years before. Denethor had been sure to keep tabs on what had been happening in the dark land and the reports from the last three weeks had been by far the most disturbing. Denethor was old, and he knew the power of Gondor was failing, gone were the heroes of old who could have withstood the power of Mordor. Should Sauron decide to unleash his forces on Gondor there was little doubt that they would fall.

The old Steward was interrupted in his dark thoughts by a banging on the door.

"Come." He called, the door creaked open and a servant hurried in, stopping a few feet short of Denethor he made a hasty bow.

"Forgive the intrusion my lord, but your son has sent a message from Osgiliath, and he brings grave tidings." Denethor left his post by the window and descended the few steps to take the piece of parchment that was handed to him by the servant. Unrolling it he lifted it to the light of a candle to better see it.

_My Lord Denethor, _(it read)

_This message contains grave news my lord, three nights ago, at dusk, a boat approached Osgiliath by means of the river. It contained not only orcs but a creature we believe not to be of this world. Members of my company who first witnessed the beast that came from the sky have confirmed that it was indeed the thing that rode it. We know not what it wanted, but it killed one of my men using a form of magic we have never been exposed to and was able to deflect arrows without visible use of a shield. We have retreated further into the city but continue to hold a large section under our command. As far as our sentries can deduct the thing and the orcs it came with have left. For now unless you bid us return we shall stay and defend this post. _

_Faramir. _

Denethor finished reading the letter, his expression and mood even graver than they had been before.

"Thank you." he addressed the servant and dismissed him with a wave of his hand. Bowing rapidly the servant practically ran from the hall. As the door shut the Steward collapsed in his chair. Running a hand over his face he sighed heavily and cast his eyes to the ceiling. So the creature had come back, and it seemed that whatever it was now had an interest in Gondor.

"When will this end?" the old steward muttered to himself.

The city was quiet. Far to quiet Faramir thought uneasily. Peering out over the desolate buildings and in the far distance the river he gripped the pommel of his sword tighter. Looking to his left he saw the three other sentries on this stretch of wall had assumed rigid nervous positions their eyes flickering from side to side ready to detect the slightest change in movement. Sighing Faramir rubbed his eyes wearily, he never allowed himself to sleep for more than a couple of hours at a time, preferring instead to be on the parapets keeping an eye on the city.

So far they had been lucky, since the last attack there had been no more sightings of the strange creature nor had any orcs been spotted making their patrols. This was strange, usually it would not be uncommon to see a patrol or two of orcs a week moving on the far sides of the river at the bases of the cliffs or Mordor. But recently there had been nothing, and although this had helped to alleviate some of the fears of the men it had only served to make Faramir even more nervous.

A hand on his arm made him jump; turning to his left he saw his second-in-command Galdor, casting a final glance to the men Faramir followed him off the parapet into a small secluded corner.

"A lone orc was spotted on the Northern bank of the river." Galdor told him in lowered tones. Faramir nodded, his mouth tightening. A lone orc might to anyone sound unimportant. But Faramir knew that a lone orc was a dangerous orc, either it was on a special mission or it was a scout. In which case they could be looking at a potential attack on Osgiliath.

"Did you make your presence known to it?" he inquired. Galdor shook his head.

"No my lord, I made sure that the orc was allowed to pass on his way." Faramir nodded.

"Good, if he had been a scouting party it means there wouldn't have been many more far behind and we could have been looking at an attack." Sighing again he ran his hand over the clasp at his throat. "Put an extra man on that part of the river. But subtly it would not do to let onto the men that we think something is amiss." Galdor inclined his head.

"As you wish my lord." Slipping away he left Faramir alone to ponder the occurrences of late, trying to find a pattern.

XXXXXX

Harry awoke and immediately knew something was wrong. From the second he opened his eyes there was a prickling in his mind that not all was right, for starters it was quiet, far too quiet. During the weeks they had spent on the road Harry had become accustomed and even soothed by hearing the birds singing every morning. They were a very natural anchor in an otherwise unnatural world. But this morning there was nothing, the air was heavy with silence and it made him uneasy.

Sitting up in his bunk he clutched his wand tightly, with practised ears he sat perfectly still and just listened. Not a creature made a sound and even the wind seemed to be holding its breath. As slowly as he could he slipped from the bunk and pushed his feet into his shoes, then being extra careful he padded past the prone forms of Ron and Hermione who were still dead to the world. Quietly he unzipped the front of the tent and poked his head out into the open.

The clearing that they had set up camp was in a sheltered part of a forest on top of a large hill that allowed them a spectacular view of the surrounding countryside. But their position had not been determined by the pretty scenery, they had chosen here because at the top of the hill they could survey anything that came near them in a four mile radius, and with the protection and wards on their camp was one of the safest places that they had settled. A result of this meant they had taken a well deserved break and had been in this spot for almost a week. Harry had at first been against the idea of lingering in one place to long, to him it only increased their chances of being found, but he had finally been worn down by his friend's arguments and had even started to relax himself, until this morning that was.

It was early and so the mist that had descended during the night was still lingering, adding an even more mysterious edge to the silent morn. Harry could feel his heart begin to pump faster as he emerged slowly from the tent. Nothing seemed to be amiss in the campsite; everything was as he'd left it the night before. But there was still that nagging feeling in the back of his head that something wasn't quite right.

Creeping to the edge of the clearing her cast his gaze in a full circle, nothing moved in the forest below save the for the slow swaying of the trees in the early morning breeze, Harry found himself holding his breath, somewhat afraid to breathe. He listened keenly, though what he was listening for he had no idea, just something that would give some clue as to why it was he was feeling so on edge.

It was at that moment that a blinding flash of pain shot through the scar on his forehead, the pain was so intense and unexpected that his knees buckled and he collapsed onto the floor clutching his forehead, lips parted in a wordless shout. Clamping his eyes shut tight he willed the pain to pass, as it abated he slowly opened his eyes and clambered shakily to his feet. His scar had not hurt him like that for a long time. Rubbing the sore skin tenderly he looked around again, his connection with Voldermort had been severed of late, there had been no more flashes or premonitions and he hoped that the ain he had just experienced was not the connection reopening.

Harry was just about to go back into the tent and try and get more sleep when something caught his attention. Advancing to the lip of the hill where their camp was based he peered intently at the spot where he had seen movement. It was about a mile down the hill to the East and to Harry it looked like the trees in that area had been visibly forced outwards, many of them were hidden by trees still intact but it was clear to see that something had happened there. Looking closer he caught a glimpse of a the edge of a black swirling mass, even from here he could tell it was not a natural phenomenon. Magic was at work there, and it could be the sign they had been waiting for. Scrambling to his feet he ran back to the tent to wake up Ron and Hermione.

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed that and please review letting me know what you all thought :)**

**Pirate-x-Girls  
**


	4. Chapter 3

**I know it's been a while for this one, I started work on it a while ago and recently found some stuff that I'd done for it. Sorry for the wait if anyone is still interested in this, let me know what you thought! **

* * *

**Black Clouds**

**Chapter 3**

Harry pounded through the undergrowth, branches whipped at his faces and arms, but he battered them aside, ignoring the pain they caused as they lashed against his skin. Behind him he could hear Ron and Hermione struggling to keep up, often they called his name.

Harry had stumbled back to the tent after seeing the magic on the horizon, calling their names he had roused them from their beds. Trying to explain what he had seen, upon seeing their confused expressions he had just decided to show them instead. He had run from the tent, yelling for them to follow him, and now they were on their way towards the source of the magic.

The closer they got the more obvious it was that there was powerful magic at work. The air around them seemed to crackle and Harry could feel the energy as it rippled around them. He slowed his pace to allow Ron and Hermione to catch up with him, when they had joined him they came to a stop of the fringe of a clearing.

"I don't like this." Hermione whispered, her eyes darting around nervously.

"I'm with Hermione on this one." Ron muttered, shifting on his feet. Harry didn't respond, instead he began to creep forward, his wand raised.

"Harry." Hermione's voice stopped him, casting his gaze back over his shoulder he saw her looking at the floor just by his feet. Following her eye line he looked down.

A carcass lay a few inches from his left shoe. It was impossible to tell what the animal may have been because all that was left was congealed flesh and the odd bone. Harry leant in for a closer look, and recoiled as the overpowering stench of rotting flesh filled his nostrils.

"Look." Turning his attention away from the carcass he cast his gaze around, the clearing was littered with similar bodies. Some were bigger than others, and the trees around the area were flattened.

"Come on." He motioned for them to follow him. "I want to know what caused this."

"Harry I don't think..." Hermione started, but she got no further as Harry pushed his way through what was left of the trees.

* * *

Gandalf stared deep into the fire, sucking on his pipe. Sensing movement next to him he glanced upwards to see Aragorn settling down beside him. For a moment the two men sat in silence, staring as the flames danced along the logs.

"Where do we go next?" the ranger asked quietly. For a moment Gandalf didn't reply.

"The future is shrouded, I cannot see the way." the wizard admitted finally. Aragorn placed a hand on his shoulder.

"It will become clear." He said. They both lapsed into silence once more, listening to the sounds of the rest of the Fellowship as they prepared for bed.

"I'll take the first watch." Aragorn said, standing up and stretching. Gandalf nodded and reluctantly left the fire for his bed roll.

The night brought with it lighting and thunder, and then in early hours before the dawn, rain. It came down in sheets drenching everything in seconds. Aragorn shook his wet hair from his eyes and peered into the gloom, his practiced eyes sweeping back and forth, looking for anything out of the ordinary.

He was relieved a while later by Legolas, the elf offered him a small smile as he took over the watch allowing the ranger to head to bed.

"All has been quiet." Aragorn said softly, so as not to wake the hobbits who slept nearby.

"Good." The elf blinked against the rain. "What are the plans for the morning?" he asked.

"I don't know," Aragorn replied. "Gandalf is...confused."

"Gimli is adamant that we should take the road to Moria."

"Aye, and Boromir says we should make for the Gap of Rohan." Aragorn said, his eyebrows knitting in a frown.

"Both are dangerous."

"Yes, but after the events on Caradhras, it seems that we will be taking the road under the mountain." Aragorn mused.

"And the ringbearer agrees." Legolas replied. Aragorn nodded.

"You had better get some sleep." The elf told the ranger. Aragorn nodded again and clapped him on the shoulder before leaving him alone.

The elf turned his attention to the landscape in front of him. The rain made visibility difficult but the eyes of the elves were able to see further than the average human. It was nearing dawn, and the first rays of light were beginning to peek over the tops of the mountains. The rain was slowing and the elf had to shake his head less often to rid his eyelashes of the rain drops.

As the rain stopped a watery sun took its place, and with it the Fellowship began to rise. Aragorn was first; he had been asleep less than two hours. Yet he looked as refreshed as if he had slept the night through. Gandalf and Boromir were next; both looked tired and groggy, Aragorn stepped to wake the dwarf who's snoring had been the elf's constant companion during his watch. Last to wake, as usual were the Hobbits. Pippin especially was very disgruntled at being woken at dawn.

Breakfast was a sombre affair, everyone knew what needed to be discussed but no one wanted to bring it up first.

Finally Gandalf spoke. "The ringbearer has decided on the path to Moria." He paused, waiting to see if anyone had an input. When no one spoke he carried on. "The entrance to the mines is still several days march away, he must walk long and hard as I fear that time is now against us. With Saruman's spies watching the passage south we cannot amble on as we have been." His eyes travelled over the hobbits especially.

"The time for haste is now." His gaze was stern and no one was stupid enough to argue.

"Right. We should be going." Aragorn took charge, chivvying everyone from their stupor.

Within twenty minutes they were set off, the only trace that they had been was a small still smouldering pile of charcoal.

* * *

Harry had no idea what he would find as he pushed his way through the flattened trees, stepping over logs and debris he clutched his wand tightly in his hand and raised his arm so that his wand was pointing straight in front of him. He knew that behind him Ron and Hermione would be doing the same thing.

Finally the trees thinned out and Harry could get his first glimpse of the magical force that was causing all the commotion.

The sight was nothing he had been prepared for. A massive black hole of magic swirled across the meadow. The edges were no less than 20 metres away from him and the inky blackness swirling in the middle was impenetrable.

Hermione came to stand by Harry's side, her jaw slack.

"What is it?" he asked. Hermione shook her head.

"I have no idea!" she breathed. "I've never seen anything like it, and I've not read anything that comes close to describing what it could be." Harry inched closer, unable to take his eyes off of the spectacle in front of him.

"I don't like this." He heard Ron muttering behind him, but he ignored it. Something was nagging in the back of his head. Something was telling him that whatever this thing was it was important.

As if on cue, pain exploded along his scar, a pain so intense that it drove him to his knees. A roaring sounded in his ears, drowning out Hermione and Ron's shouts of surprise as they rushed to his side.

Images flickered in his mind like an old reel of film, snippets of events taking place in lands unknown. He could see Voldemort, the blood red eyes narrowed, and an emotion that he had never seen. Fear.

A huge lidless eye, wreathed in flame, roared and twisted, causing Voldemort to flinch. The bag clutched in his hand quivered ever so slightly.

"They are precious to me." The voice hissed. "Can I have your assurances that they will be safe?" The hiss of a snake.

The images changed, a black hole swirling in the middle of a meadow. Voldemort, robes billowing appearing from the middle of the hole.

The images disappeared and Harry collapsed against the floor, breathing heavily, sweat coating his skin.

"Harry! Harry!" Hermione's panicked voice sounded as the roaring subsided and his hearing returned. Opening his eyes, he saw the concerned faces of his friends hovering above him.

"Are you ok mate?" Ron asked, pulling him into a sitting position.

"I'm fine." Harry took deep breaths of air, trying to make sense of what he had just seen.

"What happened?" was Hermione's next question. Harry took another deep breath before he answered.

"He's hidden them."

"Hidden what?!" Ron and Hermione exchanged confused looks.

"His horcruxes." Harry said wiping his face on his t-shirt.

"Where?!" Ron asked eagerly. Harry looked at the black hole in front of them. Hermione followed his gaze and her eyes widened.

"What? In there?!" she squeaked. Harry nodded as Ron swallowed loudly. "Where does it go?" Hermione asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

"I don't know," Harry admitted. "But he's got help there, someone is helping him hide them." this news didn't help Hermione.

"Maybe we should talk about this a little. We don't know what's on the other side of that hole. Maybe we should contact the Order." She said. Harry shook his head.

"We can't wait." He insisted. "For all we know this might be the chance Voldemort is waiting for. But he doesn't know that we know what he's done. That means he's vulnerable, he won't be worried if he thinks they're safe." Hermione was struggling to argue with his logic. She looked to Ron for help, but he merely shrugged.

Finally after several moments of thought she sighed. "It's a good thing I packed everything up before we left."

The three teenagers approached the black hole warily. Harry took another deep breath and raised his wand, ready for anything they might meet on the other side. Looking to his friends he nodded.

"Ready?" Ron and Hermione nodded, he could tell they were both terrified but they hid it well.

Stepping forward he placed a foot inside the hole of magic. As his foot passed the magic he felt a tingling all the way up his body. The sensation was not an unpleasant one, but he could feel the magic vibrating in his skull. A quick glance to his right showed Ron and Hermione were experiencing similar feelings.

Gritting his teeth Harry summoned up all of his courage and strode into the heart of the hole.

The first thing he experienced was the sensation of falling. His body was as light as a feather. He tipped forwards and backwards, unsure of what way was up and what was down. He couldn't see anything save for a few bright flashes of lights that illuminated the blackness that surrounded him. He didn't know if Ron and Hermione were with him, he tried to call out but his throat stuck and he couldn't make a sound.

Just when he thought that he would be stuck forever the sky opened up in front of his eyes. He caught a quick glimpse of treetops, and then he was freefalling, his body back to its original state. With a start he realised his vocal chords worked and he let out a strangled cry as he fell to the ground. Above him he could hear a loud roaring coming from the black hole he had just come from.

He hit the dusty floor hard, the breath was driven from his lungs and for a moment he couldn't move. A few seconds later he heard Ron's yelp next to him as he hit the floor not a foot from Harry's arm, Hermione followed very quickly.

Pushing himself up onto his knees Harry straightened his glasses and checked that he still had his wand. Only then did he look to take stock of where they were.

It was like nothing he had ever seen before. They had fallen on a dusty, rocky outcrop of land that looked out over a range of mountains that rose high above them. The sky was a perfect blue and the solitary call of a bird circling high in the sky was the only sound in the air.

"Where do you suppose we are?" Ron asked, pulling himself to his feet clutching his stomach.

"I have no idea." Harry said, eyes trying to take everything in. "But I don't think we're in England anymore." Pushing himself painfully to his feet he limped to the edge of the rock, peering over the edge he looked for a way down. Ron and Hermione came to stand beside him, looking out into the beautiful landscape.

"I can't see any form of human life." Hermione said, pulling her bag closer to her chest. Harry opened his mouth to reply, but the response died in his throat as he saw movement down below them.

"I think there is some." He said pointing down below. Hermione followed his finger, her eyes widening.

About 50 feet below them several figures were heading their way, the sun made it impossible to see features, but their body language indicated that they had been spotted, and the figures were headed this way.

* * *

Naturally Legolas was the first member of the Fellowship to notice that something was wrong. He slowed down until he was almost at a standstill, a frown appearing on his face as he strained his ears.

"What's wrong elf?" Gimli asked gruffly. Legolas shushed him with a movement of his hand as his frown intensified.

"I can hear something." He muttered. "It's coming from over there." Raising a long arm he pointed to the path ahead of them. Suddenly he hurried off leaving a very bewildered dwarf behind, straining to hear whatever it was the elf had heard.

Aragorn joined Legolas a minute later in a clearing a few hundred feet from the rest of the group.

"What's wrong?" he echoed Gimli's earlier question.

"I can hear a roaring sound." The elf replied, obviously confused. "You should be able to hear it now." Aragorn concentrated, trying to hear what the elf was talking about. After a few seconds he could hear a dim roaring, it was coming from up ahead of them.

"Look!" Legolas's voice sounded urgently. Aragon looked up, his jaw going slack as he saw the large black hole that was hovering over the rocky outcrop ahead of them.

"What is that?!" the ranger asked, a hint of fear colouring his voice. Legolas shook his head.

"I don't know." He whispered, his bow was in his hand and his other hand was twitching, ready to draw and nock an arrow should the need arise.

As the elf and the ranger watched three figures tumbled from the hole and onto the rock. Legolas narrowed his eyes as they watched the figures clamber to their feet.

"Are they human?" Aragorn asked his eyesight only able to see the outlines of the figures.

"They look to be." Legolas replied after careful consideration. "But they are dressed strangely and they look very young." Aragorn nodded.

"I'll go and tell Gandalf. He'll know what to do." The ranger hurried away leaving Legolas to keep an eye on the figures on top of the rock.

* * *

"What do we do?" Ron was panicking and it wasn't helping Harry think.

"I don't know." Harry said rubbing his temples.

"We should run." Ron said, clenching and unclenching the fist that wasn't holding onto his wand.

"And run where Ronald?!" Hermione snapped, joining Harry by the edge of the rock. "We have no idea where we are, we have no idea who they are. They might be friendly. "

Ron snorted. "Not bloody likely. We never meet anyone friendly." Harry had to agree with Ron's statement; it did seem that most people the trio seemed to meet were less than savoury characters.

"Ok." He tried to keep his head clear so he could think. "We have our wands, we know defence spells." He turned to Hermione. "Could you cast the defensive spells we put around our camps so they don't know we're here?" Hermione bit her lip and thought for a moment before shaking her head.

"There's not enough time. They'll be on us before I could finish," Harry groaned in frustration and kneaded at his forehead with the palm of his hand.

"We don't have much time." Hermione's voice pulled him from his thoughts.

Sighing heavily Harry tightened his grip on his wand. "Ok there's not much we can do. We've come this far, let's face them." he could tell from the look on Ron's face that he didn't agree with this plan, but he took a firmer grip on his wand anyway and stood up straighter.

* * *

Gandalf and Aragorn led the Fellowship up the hill towards the three figures. Gandalf had decided it would be best to find out what they were up against. He had advised the hobbits to stay a few feet behind himself and Aragorn, ready to make a quick getaway if things turned foul.

Aragorn loosened his sword in its sheath. He kept his eyes ahead, on the figures who had now noticed they were advancing towards them. He half expected them to run away, but after a few seconds of blatant indecision they stayed put. This put Aragorn on edge, and he kept his hand wrapped tightly round the hilt of his sword.

The two men, accompanied by Legolas picked their way up the hill, behind them the hobbits were guarded by a grim looking Gimli and nervous Boromir. They were now close enough that Aragorn could start to pick out details in the features of the people. They seemed human, but Aragorn could see that they were young as Legolas had said.

As they got closer the three youngsters raised their hands. Aragorn frowned when he saw what they were holding.

"They've got sticks." He murmured, knowing Legolas would hear him. A glance to his right showed the elf was just as confused as he was, and now had an arrow in his hand, ready to fit to his bow. Following his example Aragorn slid his sword fully from its sheath, the naked blade glinting in the sun.

Gandalf reached the strangers first, his staff in one hand, his sword in the other. Raising the staff in the air he spoke some words that Aragorn didn't understand, they echoed off the rocks and sent a chill down the ranger's spine. In front of them the three strangers looked confused and a little scared.

Suddenly, their expressions softened and their eyelids drooped. Almost simultaneously they slid to the floor, unconscious.

"What did you do to them?" Aragorn asked the wizard approaching the motionless humans, sword still held out in front of him.

"They are just asleep." The wizard replied sheathing his sword. "It makes it easier for us to work out what to do next." He looked around, spying a cave further on up the path. "We should take them there, out of the open; it wouldn't do for any of Saruman's spies to see us." Aragorn nodded and quickly sheathing his sword, bent to pick up the sleeping figure closest to him whose hair was a vivid red colour. Legolas followed quickly, picking up the only girl of the group and swinging her easily over his shoulder.

Gandalf motioned quickly for Boromir and Gimli to join them, whilst the dwarf ushered the hobbits into the cave Boromir picked up the final figure and followed the wizard towards the cave, his eyes darting from side to side warily.

Gandalf motioned that they lay the young people down in the middle of the cave. Aragorn pulled out some rope from his pack and helped Legolas tie them up back to back, before retreating to keep a watch on them.

"They're very odd looking." Pippin said when the entire Fellowship had gathered.

For once the young hobbit wasn't wrong, as Aragorn, Gandalf and Legolas had noticed earlier their clothes were made of strange materials with odd words on them that none of them recognised.

"Where do you suppose they're from?" Frodo asked, not being able to hide the slight fear in his eyes.

"They don't look like they're from anywhere around here." Boromir said, keeping his hand on his sword.

"Well we won't know anything until they wake up." Gandalf said, and we may as well stay here tonight until we know who they are and what they want."

* * *

Harry woke up first; the first thing he felt as he returned to consciousness was the rough sensation of rope around his wrists. This shook all grogginess from him as he tugged at his restraints looking to see if they were loose in anyway. But whoever had tied him up had done a good job of it, they weren't so tight that they were painful but they weren't going to come loose anytime soon.

He could feel Hermione and Ron stirring beside him.

"Don't bother." He murmured as he felt them both struggling against the rope like he had. "They're not going to come loose." As they ceased he took his chance to look around. They had been tied up in the middle of a sandy cage that looked out onto the rocky outcrop that they had landed on.

Across the cave sat their captors. They were crouched in the shadows of the cave so Harry couldn't see their faces, they were most certainly outnumbered. From where he was sat Harry couldn't tell if they were hostile or not, but the more he looked at them the more he began to read that they looked nervous. Servants of the Dark Lord were not usually nervous.

Harry twisted his head so that he could look at his two friends. "What do you suppose they'll do to us?" he asked.

Ron shrugged. "Eat us probably." He replied. Hermione laughed.

"Don't be absurd Ron!" she scoffed. "They seem to be civilised people." Ron shrugged again.

"Good thing we've still got our wands though." He muttered quietly. Harry and Hermione both nodded and all three of them wrapped their hands more firmly around their wands, hidden in their pockets.

A few moments later one of the company huddled on the other side of the cave broke away from the group and marched over to them. He was an old man, with long grey hair and an equally long grey beard. There was something about him that reminded Harry of Dumbledore. He had kindly eyes and a wrinkled face, what could be seen of it that was. He was dressed in a plain grey garb and carried a long wooden staff with an ornately carved top. He gazed down at the three young people.

"If you would surrender your wands?" he said, his voice was deep and resounded round the cave. Harry, Ron and Hermione all shot surprised looks at each other. Ron shook his head violently unwilling to part with his only defence. For a few moments there was silence and they could feel several pairs of eyes on them.

It was Hermione who spoke first. "Oh let's just give them to him. They know we have them!" the old man smiled and retrieved their wands, much to Ron's dismay.

"The girl is smart." He noted. "Do you not think Aragorn?" the man he had addressed stepped forward. He was a tall man with shoulder length hair; he had a scraggly beard and brown eyes. He was dressed in worn travelling gear and on his hip hung a long sword. Not for the first time Harry wondered where they had landed.

The man fixed them with a piercing stare. "She is indeed." He replied. "Perhaps you would permit us to know your names?" beside Harry, Ron shifted again.

"Don't tell them!" he hissed. Harry and Hermione both dug him in the ribs.

"I'm Harry. These are my friends, Ron, and Hermione." Harry told the two men after a moment's deliberation.

The old man nodded. "You have strange names." He told them. "I am Gandalf the Grey, the man on my left here is Aragorn, also known as Strider." Aragorn bowed his head. Gandalf stepped back and bid the other members of his company to come forward. He pointed out each one in turn.

"This is Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin." The people he indicated to were small, only children to their eyes. They all had curly hair in various different colours, ranging from a dark brown to a sandy gold. There was one that the two older men seemed to stand around more protectively than the others. He had bright blue eyes and he watched the three of them with a wary expression.

"I don't wish to sound rude, but what are they?" Hermione asked. This made the small man smile.

"I'm a hobbit, or Halfling." He explained. Ron didn't even pretend to look like he understood. Gandalf moved on

"This is Gimli, the dwarf." Gimli was short, with a thick beard that was braided. He raised his axe and growled a greeting.

Gandalf had opened his mouth to introduce the next man, but before he could speak the man stepped forward.

"No need for you to introduce me Mithrandir!" he said. He was tall like Aragorn and powerfully built. His clothes also were that of a traveller, but more ornately decorated with maroon sleeves. He too had a sword hanging from his hip, and one hand was wrapped defensively around the hilt. He peered down at them with a look that was not friendly, his eyes, a deep brown colour were narrowed. "I am Boromir, son of the steward of Gondor." He announced. When the words drew a blank with Harry, Ron and Hermione he turned back to Gandalf.

"Who are these people who know nothing of Gondor?" he asked in disbelief. "Everyone in Middle Earth knows Gondor, even the filthy orcs that fester in the pits of Mordor! I say we kill them!" his hand tightened round his sword hilt.

"Peace Boromir, you speak rashly!" Gandalf said sharply. Boromir fell silent; it seemed that they all deferred to Gandalf. Boromir, to Harry's relief retreated to the far end of the cave, throwing them dirty looks over his shoulder.

There was one member of the company who had remained silent throughout the exchange. It was Hermione who noticed him first; he was leaning against the back wall of the cave, arms folded across his chest.

Almost as if he had caught Hermione looking he pushed himself off the wall and made his way into the light. He moved with a grace that no human could have achieved, his feet not leaving footprints on the sandy floor. He came to a next to Aragorn and like Boromir had done looked down at the them. His eyes were a bright blue, like sapphires and flashed in the gloomy cave. His face was angular with high cheekbones and pale skin, his hair, a bright blonde, was long and hung down over his shoulders.

He fixed his eyes one each of them in turn and as he turned his head slightly they saw that his ears were pointed.

"This is Legolas of the Mirkwood realm." Aragorn said. Gandalf looked down at their wands that he still clasped in his hands and passed them over to Legolas.

"What do you think?" he asked. Legolas turned the wood between his long agile fingers. He raised them to his face and sniffed them. when he lowered his hands, his sapphire eyes carried a hint of surprise.

"These were made by men." He said softly.

"You sound surprised elf." Gimli said. At the last word Legolas' eyes flashed in annoyance.

"Elf?" Harry asked before he could stop himself. All eyes turned to him.

"Yes." Legolas said. "I am an elf from Mirkwood." He noted the confusion that crossed their faces with a small smile before turning the conversation back to the wands. "Where did you get this?" Harry frowned.

"From Ollivander, the wand maker." He replied.

"The name is not familiar to me." Legolas mused turning the wand in his hand again. He cocked his head to the left curiously. "Can you use it?" Harry nodded, Legolas thought for a moment, and then in a swift movement that was almost too quick to follow he knelt down and untied Harry's hands. Boromir started forward.

"What are you doing?" he raged. Legolas ignored him and let Harry take his wand.

"Some me something." Harry took the wand and thought for a moment. Boromir was looking from Aragorn to Gandalf, a look of disbelief on his face that no one was reacting.

Looking round the cave Harry spied a small clay pot lying next to one of the packs; pointing his wand at it he cleared his throat.

"Accio pot!" he commanded. The pot was jerked from the floor and flew into Harry's outstretched hands, Legolas took the wand back.

"There is magic, both in Harry and the wand." He said in wonderment. He looked back and Hermione. "We should release them, I can sense no threat from them." a strange look crossed his face. "Something tells me they are important." Everyone looked puzzled at his words, but Gandalf nodded and looked to Aragorn who quickly released Ron and Hermione. He coiled up the ropes and handed them to one of the hobbits who stowed them in a pack. Ron stood and stretched, he looked down at one of the hobbits who was watching him curiously.

"They're like house elves." He said. Legolas looked up.

"You have elves where you come from?" he asked with interest. Ron nodded.

"But they're nothing like you." Hermione chipped in and blushed when Legolas turned his gaze on her properly for the first time.

"What are they like?"

"Short." Ron laughed, Hermione glared at him.

"They're slaves. Bound to a household, made to do their masters every bidding." She continued bitterly. Legolas nodded slowly, and then without saying another word he handed Ron and Hermione back their wands and retreated to the back of the cave.

At Hermione's slightly downcast look Aragorn patted here on the shoulder.

"Do not trouble yourself." He said softly. "Legolas never speaks much. He's by nature a very solitary elf." He looked up to Ron and Harry. "Come, you must be hungry."


End file.
